


Be gentle

by JohnlockTheDoctor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, More Fluff, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:13:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2124870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnlockTheDoctor/pseuds/JohnlockTheDoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock decides it's time to come back home now. 3 years is long enough. John get's quite a shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be gentle

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from an anon on Tumblr:  
> [So: 3 years after the fall. John's been... different. He doesn't eat and hardly sleeps. Sherlock's been in complete disarray, watching john fall apart. Sherlock decides its time to come home (smut/fluff/whateve you want)]

I’d been watching him all this time. 3 years, 2 months and 8 days. I counted, _everyday._ I never once left him. Though that’s not what he thinks. He won’t eat without being force fed. He won’t sleep unless Mrs Hudson slips a few pills in his tea, and he won’t leave the flat. He _never_ leaves. That makes it harder for me to watch him, but I told myself I would. I’d keep him safe. Though I couldn’t always do it from a distance. It was difficult. He’d ended up in hospital 4 times over the last three years trying to take his own life. He tried to kill himself. 4 times all because of me. I looked over at our flat door. 221B. _My home._ I hadn’t stepped a foot inside that place for months and months. I missed it. I missed John.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out.

_Be gentle MH_

I walked over the road and slowly unlocked the door, climbing up the stairs quietly. I stopped outside our door and put the key in the lock. It was enough now. I’d had enough. I was coming home. I turned the key and pushed the door open, John was staring at me, opened mouthed, “Sh- Sh.. Sh..”, he tried to stutter out but his eyes just rolled into the back of his head. I ran over to him and caught him before he hit the floor. He’d fainted. He’d fainted at the sight of me.

I laid him down on the sofa and sat down on the floor, my face near his head and waited. He wouldn’t be out for long. Maybe only a few minutes. I took this time to take in his appearance. He was skinny. Very skinny, he’d lost his abs by the looks of things and his eyes were tired with black rings around them. The tremor in his hand was back, as it was still shaking, even though he was out stone cold. He look dreadful.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, “John”, I said softly. He turned his head and looked at me, as my head was level with his, “h-how?”. I smiled and softly touched his cheek. He jerked away, tears streaming down his face, “like you said, only I could be that clever”. He turned away from me, sobbing. I wasn’t really sure what to do. “I’m sorry”, I whispered. He turned on his side, his back facing me and cried into the back of the sofa, trying to muffle his cries. “I’m sorry”, I said louder. He ignored me still and the words, _'be gentle'_ rang in my mind. “Please.. don’t cry”, I said softly. He turned to face me and threw a punch that hit my chin, just catching my bottom lip. I sat there, as if nothing had happened, even though my lip throbbed in pain. He just laid there, staring at me, “don’t tell me what to do”. Tears were pouring down his cheeks and all I could do was watch. He hated me. John hated me. _My John._ “I’m sorry”, I said again. He ignored me, so I just carried on, “I never left you. I watched you every single day. I was always there John. I’d never leave you. I can’t believe you tried to take your own life you _idio-,_ uh sorry. They said they’d kill you if I didn’t jump. I had to! I couldn’t let them take you from me. So I did. Well, not technically.. but anyway. I did it for you. I had to hide for a while, from them. For the publicity to go down and for me and Mycroft to kill all of Moriarty’s men so they couldn’t harm any of us any more. We’ve nearly done it. All but one. I’m not meant to be here John. But I came back for you. I.. missed you. I can’t stay away any longer, you look awful and it’s my fault. I’m _sorry!_ Please forgive me John. I’m so sorry”. He started to cry more and I slowly lifted my hand to his face and wiped away some of his tears. He didn’t flinch this time, though he was still watching my every move. “You should eat”, I say softly and he nodded, “Chinese”. I raised my eyebrows, he agreed? He closed his eyes, “we always used to have Chinese from that place. I haven’t had it since”. I nodded. _Sentiment?_ I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called them up, ordering all the things we always usually get and three bags of prawn crackers, more then usual as John loves them. He slowly opened his eyes and sat up on the sofa and pulled his knees up to his face, hugging his legs. I stood up and sat down on the sofa, leaving quite a big gap between us both as I wasn’t sure how he’d deal with me sitting too close. He looked over at me and stared. He must still be in shock.

"I nearly got married", he said quietly. I nodded, "I know John". He bit his lip, "she just.. left. For no reason. Said, she didn’t want to be in the way. Didn’t want to.. just didn’t want to marry me". I continued to watch him staring at me and nodded again slowly, "there was a reason". He licked his lips slowly, that thing he always did, that thing I loved, “what was it? The reason?”. I looked away from him and sighed, “I told her to leave you”. I saw him glare at me out the corner of my eye, “how _dare_ you”. I looked back over at him and he was crying again, “I-I.. I had to”. He lunged at me, grabbing me by my coat collar and shouted at me, “you ruined it Sherlock! _Why?_ You stopped my marriage! You left me, so she tried to make me happy! YOU RUINED IT!”. I exhaled loudly, “she tried to make you happy. It didn’t work. You _weren’t_ happy”. He dropped his hands, instantly calming down from my words and whispered, “..because you weren’t here”. I grabbed hold of him and pulled him tight against me. He lay there limply in my arms as I held him tight against my chest, leaning back against the arm of the sofa and wrapping my legs around him to keep him trapped with me forever. He started to cry again into my chest and I just held him tight against me, running my hands through his soft, sandy coloured hair. “I’m sorry”, I whispered again and he finally hugged me back, “sorry I hit your lip, my aim isn’t as good when I’m laying down”. I laughed softly and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. He pulled back quickly, nearly falling off the edge of the edge of the sofa, “w-what are you doing?”. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. What _was_ I doing?

"Why do you think I stopped the wedding?", I said softly. He shrugged, "because you’re a selfish bastard?". I shook my head, holding back my laugh and smiling slightly, "no. It’s because.. _uh,_ because.. well, I uh..", I tried to say but I couldn’t get it out. I couldn’t say it. He looked at me, with slight fear in those wonderful eyes of his, "what Sherlock?". I took a deep breath and said it as quickly as I possibly could, "I think I’m in love with you and I can’t stop thinking about you and you’re bloody brilliant and you can’t marry a woman because you have to be with _me_ John. I love you, you’re mine and nobody else’s that’s why I told her to leave”. His mouth dropped open and I sat there, watching him. “I love you too”, he finally whispered quietly. I grinned and the corners of his mouth pulled up into a slight smile. He smiled. He was happy. This time I lunged at him, knocking him onto his back. He gasped before capturing my lips with his, kissing me. We kissed like nothing I’d ever seen before. I’d seen people kiss on TV and sometimes in the street, but this was different. I’d never kissed anyone properly, but we kissed as if we were trying to keep this moment going for as long as we possibly could. As if our lips had been so neglected, we had to make up for it now. We kissed for what felt like hours, yet at the same time it only felt like 5 seconds. Not once did we stop to catch our breaths. Our tongues entwined and our bodies were tangled together. I ground my hips into his and he moaned loudly through the kiss, grabbing my hair and holding my head as if he’d never let me escape. I was hard and so was he, I could feel it grinding against my own length. This was _perfect._

He pulled away and sighed. “What’s the matter?”, I whispered. He laughed softly, “there’s someone at the door”. I sat up and admired him for a second. His hair was ruffled and his lips were swollen and bruised. He looked a sight. A _beautiful_ sight. I stood up and opened our door, running down the stairs and opening the main door. The man held the Chinese towards me, his mouth slightly dropped open before he stuttered out, “£19.85”. I must have looked a bit of a state too. I handed him a £20 note and ran back upstairs, putting the dinner on the table. John grabbed hold of me, pulling me towards him, kissing me. I laughed, pulling away, “you need to eat”. He rolled his eyes, looking in the bags I’d bought, “don’t really fancy anything”. I smirked, “I bought your favourite! Don’t make me feed you!”. He sighed, leaning back on the sofa. I was here to look after him. I’d make him eat if it killed me. I opened a bag of prawn crackers and climbed into his lap and pressed one to his lips. He squeezed his mouth shut so I kissed his neck, making him gasp so I could put one in his mouth. He ate it and swallowed it down, “that’s not fair!”. I laughed, “then eat!”. He rolled his eyes, pushing me off him and took out a spring roll, eating it slowly. I watched him smiling, “what Sherlock?”. I sat down on the floor, looking through the bags for my sweet and sour chicken, “why did you want to get married so badly?”. He shrugged and I looked up at him, stopping what I was doing, “I want to be a husband”. I sat up on one knee, “then marry me”. He sat there with wide eyes, looking down at me, “you.. _what_ Sherlock?!”. I grinned, taking his hands in mine, “John Hamish Watson, will you marry me?”.


End file.
